


Homecoming

by adjovi



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 09:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18163421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adjovi/pseuds/adjovi
Summary: Margo reunites with Eliot post-Monster.





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> So, this little fic was born from a much darker Monster fic (like pitch black) that will not leave my brain alone. Brain protested, and this _happier_ piece emerged. But really, Margo and Eliot's relationship is truly one of my most favorite things to explore.

Margo had about two tenths of a second to take in the tableau in front of her before they were spotted. Penny had blipped her and Josh into the penthouse, bringing her to _Eliot_. Who, apparently, according to the croaking bunnies, was _alive_ and _whole_ and _here_. She spotted Julia and Kady first, leaning back against the counter, all knowing grins. Just watching _fuck_ \--Eliot, who was whispering something impossibly dirty, given the blush blooming on Quentin’s cheeks. Quentin, who was stealing glances at Eliot, like he couldn’t even _believe_ \--but then, Julia saw them. Her face softened at the sight of Penny; that small smile reserved for _your_ person.

Margo couldn’t hold back any longer. “Oh, fuck.” At the sound of her voice, Eliot’s head whipped around; eyes impossibly wide. He took in a deep, shaky breath. She felt her stomach drop, watching him attempting to stand. Quentin had a strong grip on his arm, helping him up. Eliot glanced briefly towards him, his mouth going up on one side in a silent thank you. He gingerly made his way over towards her.

“Bambi.” He held out his arms out open, and she practically fell into him. She hadn’t cried. Not really; not since finding out he was gone. Now? She found couldn’t stop. She clung to Eliot, heart lurching as she felt him wobbling a little. “Hey.” He was stroking the crown of her head. “Come on. Let’s--” He gestured towards one of the couches. “Let’s sit.”

She felt shaky, like she was going to practically vibrate out of her skin, watching Eliot, pale and fuck-- _so thin_ \--practically slide down to sitting, letting out a huge breath. Like even this had been an effort. “Jesus, Eliot.” She heard her voice crack; saw this reflected on his face.

He swallowed thickly, then straightened his shoulders. Blinking rapidly, she watched him bring out his game face. “Hey. I’m ok.” Her bullshit meter was seriously in the motherfucking red right now, but she allowed him some space, considering. “Really. Nothing a lot of rest and a shitload of the good drugs won’t cure.”

“Uh huh.” She was staring, watching his eyes. _Eliot’s_ eyes. _Finally_. “Oh fuck, El. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” She felt like her insides were spinning out of control; she had just been hanging on, barely, for what felt like forever. She hadn’t allowed herself to lean into the clawing universe of exquisite pain that constantly threatened to undo her. She had a motherfucking kingdom and a quest and and _and_ \--fuck. He was silently watching her. She tried to steady her breath. “How are you even remotely _ok_?”

He gave her a sad smile. “Well, thanks to the Monster draining my life force, it'll probably be awhile before I slip back into my boogie shoes.” He waved his hand like it didn’t fucking matter. “But, honestly? I’m surprisingly ok.” At her look of protest, he pushed on. “No. This isn’t me putting on a brave face. I actually didn’t _see_ most of the Magical Murdery Tour. I was tucked away inside my own mind. Except for like thirty seconds when I managed to fight through long enough to convince Q I was still alive in there.”

She felt a spike of guilt race down her belly. “Jesus, El. The fucking bunnies. _All_ the talking animals. They were--broken. By the time we got them fixed, I was on a vision quest with Fen--yeah, turns out your _wife_ has prophetic dreams.”

She watched his face soften at the mention of Fen’s name. “Guess I missed some shit, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it. Anyways, by the time I got the bunnies that you were _alive_ I was--”

He took her hand. “It’s ok, Bambi. You’re here now.”

She grasped his fingers like a lifeline. “I know you need time to heal. And, please. God, Eliot. Please take the time to do that.” She took in a deep breath. “But, know that when you're ready, I _really_ need you back in Fillory. I _hate_ doing this on my own.”

Something foreign flashed across his face. He toyed with her fingers, and gave her a strange, soft smile. “Well. You should know. I’m--well. I’m kind of a _package_ deal now.”

It took her brain a couple of seconds to catch up. “Jesus fucking Christ. Did Coldwater _finally_ get his head out of his ass long enough to admit that he loved you?”

Eliot’s face fell a little, his eyes slipping to the side. “That’s not--” He licked his lips nervously. “I was the asshole, Margo. He gave me his whole heart and that fucking _terrified_ me.” He ran a hand tiredly over his face, but he still had that same soft smile. “We got there. In the end.” He gripped her hand again. “But, if I’m to go to Fillory, I need to have a conversation with him first.”

She felt a spike of irritation at this brave new world order. She was never good at sharing. Most especially when it came to Eliot. His love for her? The surest thing in the universe. Two lonely people, bonded together. Nothing they couldn’t face. But, now, Eliot was gaping at her, nakedly begging her to understand. And in that moment, she realized Quentin had pulled off something truly _magical_. Not only had he convinced Eliot to lean into his love for him, but he had also miraculously persuaded Eliot to accept his love in return. No small feat. She gave him a genuine smile. “Oh, honey. He’d follow you to hell and back.” Already had.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “He watching?”

She glanced around Eliot, and sure enough, Quentin was pointedly _not_ trying to keep an eye on them. “He’s fucking _terrible_ at this.”

Eliot chuckled. “Yeah. He’s been helicopter parenting me ever since I got back.” Amazingly, there was only warmth in his eyes.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t _love_ it.” And, by the way he rolled his eyes, he so clearly did. She knew emotional declarations weren't exactly their forte, so she steered the conversation onto more pressing matters. “I'm fucking starving. Whatever Hoberman is cooking up in there smells divine.”

He smirked at her. “Oh, right. Q told me about you and _Josh_. You better be ready to spill the tea on that one.”

She swiped at his arm lightly. “ _That's _a conversation that requires many mimosas.”__

____

____

“Done.” He gave her that wide-faced _Eliot_ smile that never failed to do her in.

“Alright, come on, bitch.” She stood, offering her hands to him. He hesitated a second before placing his hands in hers, pulling tightly. He rocked a little with the effort of standing, and her heart fucking broke with the realization that he might be too big for her to manage this.

But, Quentin materialized beside him, looping one of Eliot’s arms around his, helping to pull him to his feet. “We got you.” And, the fact that Eliot was resting pretty much _all_ of his weight against Quentin didn’t make her feel jealous. It made her feel fucking grateful that Eliot was willing to allow someone else to help carry his weight for him. For a change.

She did kind of hate the way everyone was pretending _not_ to watch Eliot struggling to walk back to the kitchen island. Quentin managed to get Eliot settled on a bar stool and Josh pulled two plates out of the oven covered with tin foil. “Careful. Kept these hot for you.” She felt an unexpected rush of warmth towards Josh, who had inexplicably remained by her side this entire time. Maybe she wasn’t that lonely girl anymore.

Sure. There was still shit to do. Apparently, _Alice_ was helping them in a plan to take down the Library. And, Kady had something brewing with Hedgewitches that she didn’t completely understand, but somehow held the key to Alice’s plan. And, of course, shit in Fillory was fucked like thirteen times sideways. But, as she sat there, sharing breakfast with her friends, Eliot by her side, she realized she hadn’t felt this at _home_ in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Comments and kudos are love. Thanks for reading.


End file.
